You Had Me at Merlot [ Chaennie ]

Chapter 11: An Arrow Draped In Destiny

"Things are starting to disappear from the list," Clarissa said as she scrolled her wedding registry on her phone. "And did I tell you that RSVPs are starting to roll in."

"Can you even believe it?" Jennie said from her spot-on Clarissa's couch. "I can't, and I'm not even you."

"Jennie. I'm going to be a bride. And my mother will be forced to attend a lesbian wedding. That's the best part, honestly. I love watching her pretend to be comfortable."

"She's trying. That's important." Jennie lifted her shoulders to her ears. "Just think of it. You. A married lady."

"I'll need to learn to knit, probably. Don't married people do that on weeknights in front of the TV? I can't have a cold wife. She'll need scarves and gloves."

"I agree. Knitting is a matrimonial requirement. It's your announcement to the world that you've settled down and no one else gets to take your clothes off. I bet Marjorie would teach you."

"Did you know she's a bistichtual?"

Jennie blinked. "That might be my favorite thing you've ever told me. Define this word. My dad would love it."

"Marjorie asked if she could be in our queer club if she was bistichtual, and laughed. Apparently, it means you both knit and crochet. Two kinds of stitching."

"That's amazing."

"She was incredibly proud of herself for that one." Clarissa sat upright on the couch. "Oh, somebody snatched up the PlayStation? Tara is going to sob with joy. She tossed that on to the registry just for fun."

Jennie shrugged. "People get tired of buying plates and towels. I'm actually kind of sad I missed it."

Clarissa's brown eyes went wide. "You're handling the coffee station and doughnut bar at our reception. I hardly think there needs to be another gift. In fact, I forbid it. No, no, no."

"You're not the boss of me," Jennie said with a grin.

Clarissa then proceeded to lunge for her, WWF style. "You better stop it right now. I'm the bride. The chooser of all things. Say I'm the bride." She had Jennie in an unconvincing headlock that she easily slipped out of.

"This woman was no match for Jennie," the voice-over said.

She toppled Clarissa and pinned her. "You're the bride, but you will never best me in a wrestling match. Do you hear me? I practice alone at night. Rigorous and determined."

"Of course you do."

Jennie released her. "Never know when you're going to meet a criminal in a dark alley. I have to be ready."

"I forgot you believe you're Supergirl."

"Aspiring. Don't be too generous."

Jennie slid back onto her spot on the couch next to Clarissa, looped their arms, and snuggled in. "I can't wrap my brain around the fact that you're about to get hitched. I'm literally going to be the only lesbian in New York unattached."

"You could always race back to Deb. I hear she danced on top of a van in front of a Pinkberry last night."

"That tracks. It's also one of the reasons I likely should not rush back to Debbie, but I do admire that carefree vibe. I use that word a lot now."

"I'm impressed."

"The lingo, ya know?" She shook her head. "But you can only cheer for a person on top of a van so many times before you just want to watch Jeopardy in leggings at seven p.m. for the rest of your life. Is that too much to ask?"

"No," Clarissa said matter-of-factly. "I registered for a PlayStation and got it. Tara and I may never leave this apartment. You can visit."

She kissed Clarissa's T-shirt clad shoulder. "Sold. You're lucky. You're in love and careening toward a life of romantic wine sipping and gazing into each other's eyes."

"That's literally all we do. Not a single dish is washed. Just gazing." Clarissa laughed, shaking Jennie's knee. "But I love the way you idealize any and all settled relationships as if they're perfect."

"It's never-ending envy."

"I know. And I am very lucky. I recognize that. Tara lets me double dip and leave my towel on the floor and still tells me I'm the hottest woman alive. She even wants to learn Spanish. My mother is already buying workbooks."

"See? That's what dreams are made of." She collapsed into the cushion. When Jennie was with Clarissa, she was one hundred percent herself, and lamenting her single-again status felt called for today. She was depressed and owning it.

"Your dreams will come true, too. But right now, you're chasing something unattainable because your world was rocked off its axis three years ago and you can't seem to duplicate the experience."

"I'm not chasing anything. I've resolved myself to the fact that what I had with Roseanne was fictional, a mirage, because everything about her was. You can't chase what never existed."

"Except nothing since has measured up in your eyes. It's your perpetual measuring stick."

Jennie sighed. "Don't point out accurate things. Wisdom and insight have no place in the midst of my self-wallowing." She lifted her empty wineglass. "Dare we have two? Are we those people?"

"If we're not, then I don't want to know us."

Jennie brightened. "Maybe your insight is welcome after all." She scurried into Clarissa's kitchen and returned with the open bottle of French rosé. "I might also be stalling because it's Thursday, and Marlene and Edward always have sex on Thursday nights. It's an event. A loud one."

"The elderly neighbors?" Clarissa covered her mouth, which did nothing to smother the sound of her genuine laughter.

Jennie nodded slowly, communicating her very fragile feelings with her eyes. "There's grunting, Riss. Sometimes happy squealing, and I don't even know how squealing happens. The mattress could also be quieter. It's not even trying."

Clarissa's face was red from silent laughter by this point. She fanned herself to dry the tears of mirth that escaped. "Every Thursday?" she gasped. "Why have you not told me about this? I wonder if there's an alarm that goes off to remind them it's special time."

"I needed the wine to find courage. Plus, I was trying to spare you. Absorb the horror on your behalf. It's me who has to face them in the hall the next morning, and talk about the weather and coffee like I didn't just ride the train to Pleasureville as an unwilling passenger."

Clarissa fell over and covered her face with a pillow, muffling the laughter. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me. We have to tell my mom."

"We absolutely do not. She already thinks I made you gay by proximity. Next, she'll think I listen in on my neighbors."

"She's a work in progress. She adores you just as much as the rest of the world." A pause. "So, what's it like showing up to those meetings in the same room as Bambi's Mom?"

"No comment."

"Not allowed. When we sit on my couch and drink two glasses of rosé, we share freely and without thought. Now, go. Roseanne is the topic. Expound, por favor."

"Pushy as always. Fine." She gave the question her full attention and tried to explain how spending time with Roseanne felt. And there were many feelings. Warring ones, even. "It's kind of a mindfuck, to be honest."

"Harsh language from the Jenniester. I like it."

"There's no other way to say it." She grappled for the right words. "I see her and think she's the most beautiful person I've ever spoken to, but I also hate her for what she almost did. Then there's the part where she lied straight to my face, literally right after sleeping with me. So, I don't trust her. Never will."

"Does that mean after the charity event, you'll part ways forever and ever?"

This was a test. "Well, there's a development I hadn't mentioned." She'd been too afraid that actually speaking Roseanne's proposal into the universe would make it real, and she'd have to come to a decision on what in hell she was going to do about it. The offer was hugely tempting, almost too good to be real, and also the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to Jennie. Was she really prepared to dance with the devil?

"I'll need to hear this development in glorious detail."

"She wants to financially back a new Bordeauxnuts. A silent partner, so to speak. She puts up the money, and I make the decisions for the running of the business."

Clarissa's response was to swat her hard across the arm.

Jennie covered the wound in offense. "Ow! You can't just wallop me!"

"I can so," Clarissa said, bucking up. "This development should have been the first thing uttered when you crossed the threshold, like a goddamn hello. We're approaching two hours in. You can't deliver the goods two hours in."

"I was working up to it."

"And?" Clarissa demanded, ignoring her. "Are you gonna do it?"

Jennie exhaled slowly. "I haven't gotten that far."

"But you turned down the franchise offer, and now I'm thinking it was because you had this little deal on your desk the whole time."

"Only partially the reason. The franchise wasn't right for me."

"I agree. But is Roseanne?" Clarissa arched a brow, suggesting her meaning extended beyond simply business.

"No. Most certainly not in the way your face is insinuating. But maybe, just maybe, this is the step up I would need, and it fell into my lap within twenty-four hours of having to deliver my answer to that Michael Stoneking guy." She lifted a shoulder and paused, trying to slow her racing thoughts and rapid-fire speech. She harnessed her zen and pressed on, slower. "I also happen to believe in signs, and the timing was too freaky to fully ignore."

"Do it. Who cares if she lies after sex? She'll want to protect her investment, and she seems to have done well for herself, career wise."

They held eye contact. "You think I should? Because I value your opinion and am worried I can't see this thing as clearly as I want to."

"I one hundred do. It's like you said, timing wise. There's an arrow draped in destiny pointing boldly to Roseanne. Follow it."

"I can't fathom that this might happen. I suppose there's always the chance she'll flake and change her mind." Jennie took a moment. "But I get the feeling she's a driven person."

"Maybe she could drive right into you."

Jennie widened her eyes. "No more rosé for you. Cut off!"

"But I'm the bride."

"You can only play that card for a couple more months."

"Then I'm damn well going to fork it over every chance I get." She slung an arm around Jennie's neck. "This is going to be a good year for us. I can just sense it with my rosé afflicted sensibilities."

"Well, if the rosé says so, it might just be true."

And maybe it would be. Jennie had always been a risk taker, but a conservative one. She measured her chances at success and leapt when they seemed tipped in her favor. This felt beyond that scope, however. On the other hand, maybe she needed a little excitement in her life. Clarissa was getting married, her mother was about to enter retirement and adopt a new friend, and there was Jennie, in the exact same spot as always.

Time to hold her breath, say a prayer, and take a precarious leap with a very beautiful liar.